


Illegal, Chantelle

by Cristinuke



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Blow Jobs, Communication, Declarations Of Love, Exhibitionism, Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, Misunderstandings, Modern Era, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-War, Public Blow Jobs, Public Sex, Self-Esteem Issues, World War II, hand holding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:07:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22956118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cristinuke/pseuds/Cristinuke
Summary: Bucky didn't know if Steve had sex with him because he liked him, or if he just liked to get off on dangerous situations.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 36
Kudos: 308





	Illegal, Chantelle

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is completely based on [this Tumblr Ask](https://yawpkatsi.tumblr.com/post/190061750722/1930s-bucky-being-unsure-if-steve-is-having-sex) that made me crack up. So of course I had to write it. 
> 
> [Kuja](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kuja/profile) was so kind to help me out with this fic, so thank you!

1935

“Fuck, we’re going to get caught,” Bucky warned, biting back a moan. Steve’s tongue was doing wicked things, licking around the crown of Bucky’s cock before placing a gentle kiss.

“Yeah, if you keep making noise like that, we will.” Steve whispered, right before opening his mouth and valiantly trying to choke himself as he swallowed Bucky down.

Bucky, for his part, shoved his fist in his mouth to stifle a whimper. Steve had never quite managed to get all of Bucky in one go, but holy shit, if he wasn’t nearly there.

It was dark— only grey shadows against brick in the alley— and late. Bucky had punched out from work at 11pm tonight, only to be surprised by Steve at 11:04, waiting for him outside. Everyone else had gone home, but Steve had pressed Bucky up against the wall, a hand over his mouth, and a wink. He had told him to stay silent, relax, and enjoy the surprise. 

And then he had sunk to his knees and attacked Bucky’s belt like it was a personal affront. 

And it _really_ was a surprise. 

Steve was acting like a champ, pushing himself deeper and deeper, and Bucky, despite himself, had gotten hard so fast he was dizzy with it. He had never stood a chance against Steve, and now was no exception.

“Steve, Stevie…” Bucky moaned, his hands finding themselves tangled in Steve’s overgrown mess of hair. 

Steve pulled off with a wet _pop_.

“Yeah?” His voice was wrecked, and Bucky’s hips jerked of their own accord. 

“We can’t do this here…” His complaint was weak at best; his grip on Steve’s hair didn’t loosen a fraction.

“And yet, here we are.” Steve chuckled and dived back down. 

It was heaven and hell all at once, Bucky decided. Steve was working him over, bringing him to the edge so fast that Bucky had to force himself to take several deep breaths. 

“Steve…” He whispered his name, his thighs shuddering. He was so fucking close.

Of course that’s when they heard a voice. _Two_ voices.

Steve reached a hand up and pushed against Bucky’s chest— a silent reminder to keep quiet and not move. Bucky didn’t really need to be told twice, but it was suddenly the hardest thing he’d ever had to do.

His cock was still in Steve’s mouth.

The voices were growing nearer— Bucky had enough awareness to realize it was the foreman talking, probably with another worker— and Bucky was sure they were going to get caught.

All they’d have to do is glance down the alley as they passed, and they were screwed. 

Steve swallowed, the movement of his throat rippling around Bucky’s cock, and Bucky was going to _die._

The voices grew closer, louder. Bucky turned his head away from the alley entrance, not strong enough to face his executioner, but then the voices passed. The sounds grew fainter until they were all alone again, only the ocean waves hitting the dock could witness them now.

Steve pulled off wetly and let his hand slide down until he was lazily jacking Bucky off; Bucky had no fucking clue how he’d managed to keep his erection— if anything, he was even _harder_. 

“That was close.” Steve murmured against Bucky’s hip, and Bucky could feel the silent laughter of his frame, pressed so close against him.

“You’re fucking insane.” Bucky gritted out, forcing his fingers to uncurl from Steve’s hair, wincing as he realized he must have pulled too tightly. Steve didn’t seem to mind, only looking up at him, debauched and giddy at having gotten away with something so dangerous. 

“You like it.” That was all the warning Bucky got before Steve tucked his head and swallowed him whole.

And maybe Steve was right. Just a _little_. Or maybe it was the delicious wet heat of him, but Bucky found himself right on the edge again in no time.

“Stevie, I’m gonna— hold on, wait—”

And Steve— _damn him_ — fucking _hummed_ and swallowed hard.

Bucky was lost to it, accidentally twitching his hips into Steve’s mouth and causing Steve to gag for a moment as he came. 

It took him a moment to come back to himself, hysterical giggles bubbling out of him in turn. 

Steve finished coughing and then looked up grinning, running the back of his hand across his mouth to smear off spit and come that he hadn’t managed to swallow. 

Bucky was fucked. He never stood a chance. His heart pounded, bursting with love for this idiot son-of-a-bitch. 

And then it skipped a beat and his stomach tightened when a fleeting thought invaded his happy bubble; did Steve feel the same way?

He didn’t get a chance to think too hard, though, because Steve stood up, saying, “Better buckle up those pants, Buck. Wouldn’t want you to get arrested for indecent exposure.” 

“The cheek on you, Rogers.” Bucky hissed, bending over to pull up his pants. 

When they were more or less put together, Steve shoved his hands into his pockets and bumped shoulders with Bucky as they began their trek through the neighborhoods back to their apartment. The night was cooling down, and they were alone for their walk. Only their shadows heard their conversation, but still, Bucky kept his voice pitched low.

“We almost got caught, and I really would rather not see what jail’s like, you know. Was it worth it?” His previous thought nagged at him. 

Steve laughed out loud, uninhibited and free. “You worry too much, Buck. We didn’t get caught. We’re totally fine. Besides, I have something in mind for dinner. Something special.” He winked at Bucky, and grinned again, brushing the topic away easily. Bucky allowed himself to give into his curiosity and ask what Steve’s plans were and for the rest of their walk, Steve strung Bucky along, refusing to spoil the surprise.

Bucky found himself smiling in the end, helpless to do anything else. 

Even if at the back of his mind he wondered if Steve was just happy to have gotten away with something so risqué and illicit.

*

1943

Their entire deployment was one big “Fuck You” to authority, and Steve was _living_ for it. 

He constantly toed the line of what was _duty_ versus what was _I’ll do whatever the fuck I want,_ and Bucky was honestly impressed. 

Scared shitless, but impressed. 

He had no idea how Steve managed to smooth talk his decisions past the commanding officers; they clearly hadn’t been expecting to have to grin and bear it in the face of Captain America, or face a nasty political game back home overseas if they objected. A Master Sergeant learned that lesson well enough to teach the others that sometimes it was better to simply play along. 

Bucky was just waiting for the other shoe to drop at this point. Steve wasn’t going to be able to buck authority forever, and he knew that he was only getting away with it because of the war and because he got results. It didn’t matter how many warnings or write-ups he got, nor how many pointed glances or head shakes Bucky directed at him. 

Any caution Bucky threw to Steve’s wind simply got drowned out. 

Like the night that Colonel Phillips and a select group was called away to ‘see to another troop in need of aid’— Bucky could read between the lines and knew a secret mission was underway— and Steve dragged Bucky into the Colonel’s tent to go over a map and potential strategies. 

At least, that was what Bucky had thought. Steve apparently, had other plans.

“What are you doing?” Bucky asked breathlessly, biting on a whimper when Steve crowded him against the table, his hand groping Bucky pointedly. 

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Steve growled in Bucky’s ear. 

Bucky had no idea how Steve managed to undo his pants so quickly, because all of a sudden, the cool air was raising goosebumps along Bucky’s thighs. 

“We shouldn’t be…doing this….here…” Bucky gritted out, reaching behind himself to grip the edges of the table, heedless of the poor maps lying behind him. Or rather, Bucky thought, lying under him.

Steve hummed as if he were considering Bucky’s weak protest. “Why not?” His hand was hot on Bucky’s skin when he slipped it into his underwear. Bucky’s cock had no qualms about filling out in Steve’s hand, much to his chagrin. 

A sure stroke from root to tip had Bucky hard in no time, and he couldn’t help the whimper that escaped his throat.

“Hush,” Steve whispered. “You don’t want to get us caught, now, do you?”

Another whimper tried to crawl its way out, but Bucky didn’t let it this time. Instead, he brought a hand up to his mouth, biting on his knuckles to keep the sounds in. Unfortunately, it did nothing to distract from the teasing touches Steve was using to rile him up. Bucky couldn’t help it as he arched his body into the pressure.

“Quit moving around so much.” The admonishment was ruined by the grin on Steve’s face, but then Bucky realized it was a fair warning; their shadows could probably be seen from outside the tent with the way the light penetrated the canvas. 

If they moved too much— too _obviously_ — then anyone walking by would be able to tell what was going on in the tent. 

“We shouldn’t…” Bucky tried again to argue, but he trailed off in fear of letting an untoward sound get out when Steve’s thumb rubbed just under the head of his cock. 

Steve hummed, tonelessly. “We should.” 

His counterargument was too good, Bucky knew. 

Still, he tried, “If we get caught…”

“We won’t.”

Steve’s surety was nearly enough to sway Bucky over.

 _Nearly_.

It would have been ironclad had it not been for some voices coming near. 

Bucky couldn’t make it out, but it sounded like someone was giving instructions to another party. He could barely hear anything over the sudden rushing in his ears.

Then Steve’s voice rang clear: “What do you think about a team of five? If we plan on coming from _here_ …say, with a sniper? And rendezvous _here_ … we should be able to sneak past their guard.” 

It didn’t make sense. Bucky had no idea what Steve was saying, and it took him too long to realize it really _was_ bullshit and it wasn’t supposed to make sense. 

Steve was just trying to throw out a red herring for any passersby. Make everyone think they were pouring over a map to come up with a new plan. 

Snatch another win. Save more lives. End the war. 

Bucky didn’t care anymore.

He just wanted to come.

Steve, the bastard, didn’t even break a fucking sweat as he droned on; and it shouldn’t have been so arousing to hear him speak about imaginary tactics, but fuck if it didn’t nearly push Bucky over the edge.

The only thing that was stopping him was the same kernel of fear that they were about to be found out. 

Fortunately for him, that kernel popped as soon as the passing voices dissipated and Steve renewed his determined goal of wringing out an orgasm from Bucky. 

Bucky could never deny Steve anything he wanted. 

He was actually glad when Steve slapped his other hand over Bucky’s mouth; what probably looked terrible from the shadows, was made up for in that Bucky couldn’t make a sound as he came so fucking hard into Steve’s hand. 

“You should stay tonight. Sleep here with me.” Steve told him nonchalantly, as if Bucky’s brain wasn’t desperately trying to kick back into gear. 

“Umm.” Bucky eloquently stated, his cock still jerking. Steve’s hand was _still on him_ , helpfully stroking him along so that each swipe made stars flash behind Bucky’s eyes. Finally, Bucky had enough sense to drag a hand in front, half-heartedly pushing Steve away. 

Steve, for his part, seemed unbothered by his come-covered hand; instead, he was watching Bucky carefully, waiting for a response. 

Bucky gave himself another moment before attempting to process what Steve had said. “You want me to stay here? Tonight?”

His hearing was still ringing, so it was likely he had misheard.

“Yes.”

Or maybe not.

“Steve…” Bucky began, thoughts starting to flit in with logic and reason. “That’s how we get caught. I’d be in a whole lot of trouble, and you…”

“Don’t worry about me.” Steve quickly cut in.

“All I do is worry about you, punk.” Bucky retorted. “And you know someone will find you. What happens if I don’t go back to the barracks tonight? We don’t exactly have quiet guys who mind their own business here, if you hadn’t noticed.”

Steve sighed deeply and reached past Bucky to grab a cloth. He cleaned himself up as he said, “You’re such a spoilsport, you know. Jerk.” 

The tease was light-hearted and gentle and Bucky was tired enough to let it go, waving him off. 

“C’mon, let me be a gentleman and walk you to the door, at least.” Steve did a fancy little wave of his hand, gesturing towards the tent’s opening.

Bucky had to roll his eyes. “There’s not a single thing about you that would be called a ‘gentleman.’” 

He followed Steve anyway, ignoring Steve’s dramatic gasp. Steve opened the canvas door enough for Bucky to duck through, but before he could walk away from the tent, he felt a hand grab his arm and pull him backwards. 

“Steve, what—” Bucky’s words were cut off as Steve pulled him in for a heated kiss. The surprise of it allowed Bucky the excuse of letting the kiss deepen for a moment before he realized where they were. 

He leaned back, forcing a couple of steps in between the two of them and hissed out, “Knock it off!” Bucky looked around, dread sinking deep into his stomach, only to be relatively relieved when he saw they were alone. “Anyone could have been walking past, and seen us.”

Steve, damn him, was still holding onto the canvas flap, rolling his eyes and completely at ease. “But they didn’t. No one was out here.” His grin was lopsided; Steve looked like the cat who caught the canary, all proud and full of himself.

Bucky shook his head in disbelief, turning away from Steve and throwing a middle finger behind him as he walked away from the tent. 

He heard Steve snicker in response and decided that’d be a problem for another day. 

Bucky was too tired.

*

2015

It was really a beautiful day. 

There were thick, fluffy white clouds that brought a few degrees of relief in between bright streams of sunlight, so the overall feeling was warm and comfortable. The slight breeze that picked up over the reservoir helped too, slightly ruffling their hair and shirts. 

People ran past them, jogging in a wide variety of clothes. It was easy to pick out the tourists that ran in the wrong direction— Steve valiantly tried to defend them, saying that they might just be going back home, but Bucky knew it was a weak excuse. 

They walked aimlessly through the park, chatting about nothing in particular, and people-watching. Kids ran around, screaming and laughing as they found rocks to climb, and trees to hide behind. Some were bold enough to chase the squirrels and birds that dared get close. The pigeons showed off their lazy attempts to walk away until they were bullied into taking flight by the strollers that were pushed quickly past. 

“Want a hot dog?” Steve asked as they passed yet another stand. This one offered frozen lemonade too. 

Bucky didn’t hesitate to say, “Yes.”

It was ridiculous, to pay so much for a lunch that wasn’t actually that good, but Bucky loved it. He lived for these simple luxuries that had been denied him for decades. 

He didn’t care that the ketchup was cheap, and the mustard artificial. He didn’t care that the sausages were better if you went to the right places deeper in the city. He loved the way the bun yielded when he bit into it, soft and sticking to the roof of his mouth. He took the time to savour the bright flavors and the reminder that this was food he was now allowed to eat. He loved the way the lemonade tasted too sweet, how it melted and left sticky trails down his fingers until it dripped, forgotten along the pathways of Central Park until rediscovered by ants later in the evening. 

They ate their food, garbling words around full mouths to get their points across. They passed old houses and buildings, gardens, the amphitheater, and statues that marked their path across the park. Hidden along the trails, they tried three water fountains before they found one that actually worked, to wash off their hands and dry themselves on their pants and each other. 

When the last of the moisture had evaporated from their fingers, Bucky reached out and took Steve’s hand; his fingers curled back into the grip. Their shoulders bumped amicably as they kept up with their unending journey, going nowhere in particular, but everywhere at once. 

Bucky smelled the flowers, because he could. He dragged Steve to different ones, pointing them out. Steve talked about the architecture of buildings and the stone bridges that crossed the paths. He showed Bucky the way the steps laid out, seemingly innocuous until an artist’s eye illuminated them. 

The whole time they refused to let each other go.

Which was why Bucky was surprised to feel Steve hastily shake his hand out of Bucky’s. 

“What’s wrong?” Bucky immediately felt on edge, thinking there was a danger nearby. He immediately catalogued the three kids running ahead of a woman and man— presumably the parents— two young women who were chatting loudly with each other, the three older Korean matriarchs who were clearly part of the tourist group that was ahead on the path, and two police officers in uniform patrolling in the opposite direction. Bucky felt a modicum of relief at seeing them and knowing they’d at least have back-up in case something went down. 

But then he realized nothing was going down. There was no situation. Nothing out of the ordinary that should have set Steve off. 

“What’s wrong?” Bucky repeated, turning to Steve who looked like he was forcing himself to act natural. 

“Nothing.” Steve mumbled, still forging forward. Bucky got in front of him and stopped, bodily forcing Steve to stop walking. When Steve tried to side-step him, Bucky blocked that too, and held onto his arms, keeping him in place.

That was when Steve glanced up and back down. Bucky looked over to where Steve had seen something, and only saw the two policemen walking past them. Nothing else. 

Bucky opened his mouth to ask Steve again what the problem was, but then one of the police radios crackled to life for some report or other, and Bucky heard one of them answer back calmly. That was when Bucky realized what had happened.

“Steve,” Bucky began slowly, wondering how _he_ was the one to bring to Steve this piece of the future, “You know we’re okay, right? We can hold hands and we won’t get in trouble.” Bucky was going to kill whoever failed to mention this important detail to Steve when he first got unfrozen; Bucky had known about it but it had never applied to him until now. “Gay marriage is legal, now, Steve.”

Steve’s gaze whipped up at him, surprise coloring his expression for a moment before smoothing out again. His tone was slightly disappointed as he said, “Yeah, no. I know.”

It wasn’t what Bucky was expecting. He didn’t know what to make of it, confusion seeping in to overwhelm him. So much so that he didn’t fight it when Steve reached out to take his hand again, and pulled him along their original path, acting like they didn’t just have a weird interlude. 

The clouds passed above them, brightening everything for a moment, the warmth sinking straight into their bones, before they were covered again and the temperature dropped a couple degrees. 

Bucky let his feet carry him wherever Steve led him, but his brain didn’t catch up until minutes later when Steve was well into some imagined critique of what some strangers could be doing with their lives— carrying on their previous conversation. 

By then, Bucky floated along with their usual chatter, trying not to think about the shadow that had passed over them. 

*

2020

What Steve does on his own time, for his own charities, out of the goodness of his own heart, is absolutely fine with Bucky. 

What’s less fine— though Bucky would never stop it or say anything because he kind of likes it, even if he kind of doesn’t— is that Bucky always seemed to get dragged into these things along with him. 

To be fair, Steve had always dragged him into everything, and living in the future really wasn’t going to be the event that stopped that particular habit. If anything, it felt more like the core of their relationship.

So when Steve decided to accept some sort of borderline exhibitionism photoshoot for a charity calendar of some sort, Bucky shouldn’t have been surprised to find himself getting literally dragged into a dressing room by Steve. 

And he _really_ shouldn’t have been surprised by Steve pressing up against Bucky and groaning against his ear.

“Fuck, you’re so hot.”

Bucky chuckled at the heat in Steve’s voice, until he felt a bulge at his back and realized Steve wasn’t messing around.

“You’re going to get paint on me.” Bucky pointed out, without any real attempt to move. Steve was warm behind him, his entire skin surface exposed except for a tiny little cloth that was supposed to be covering his dick. It was making a valiant effort— that no one could deny— but it wasn’t quite enough to hide anything. 

“I’ll just ask them to repaint it.” Steve murmured lowly in Bucky’s ear, his arms coming around to hold Bucky and pull him against Steve’s chest. Bucky could just envision the red and blue paint smearing off of Steve’s skin to transfer to Bucky’s jeans and shirt. 

Luckily, he knew that the paint was too good to actually come off that easily. Still, he was glad he’d worn a black shirt and had on dark jeans. 

Besides, his own cock was starting to wake up, and he didn’t think this was the best time or place to let himself get riled up.

Even if he was already failing slightly in that department.

“You have to go into the studio in the next five minutes, Steve.” Bucky protested, though he helpfully rolled his hips with Steve when he insisted. It didn’t help that Steve was leaving kisses all along Bucky’s neck and mouthing at the juncture of Bucky’s jaw. 

Steve knew every trick in the book to get him hot and bothered— something Bucky usually appreciated, but now was feeling conflicted over. 

“Mmm.” Steve replied wisely. 

Bucky groaned. “I’m serious, quit it.”

He barely could muster enough authority in his tone to convince himself. 

Surprisingly, Steve stopped though, and took a step back. Bucky whined at the loss, despite the fact that he hadn’t meant to start anything in the first place. When he turned around to look at Steve, though, he rolled his eyes at the gesture Steve gave towards his crotch.

His _hard_ erection literally tenting the tiny cloth.

“Well, it’s not going to go away on its own in the time we have.” Steve pointed out, a small pout on his face. 

It was obscene, the way his cock bulged, and Steve had a point— at this stage, he wasn’t likely to go soft any time soon, and Bucky would die from second-hand embarrassment if Steve went out there. 

Steve would do it just to spite Bucky, too. 

“You’re fucking killing me, here.” Bucky complained, even as he got onto his knees. He briefly thought about grabbing ice as an alternative, but there wasn’t a minifridge in this dressing room, and looking for it somewhere else would have wasted too much time. 

Besides, it wasn’t as if it was so much of a hardship. 

And Bucky was _good_ at sucking Steve off. 

He’d simply make it his personal goal to get him off in time. 

“You look good down there.” Steve commented, waiting until Bucky shuffled closer before sinking his hands into Bucky’s hair. It was short now, so he couldn’t quite get a decent grip, but he made up for it by raking his nails softly along Bucky’s scalp, causing goosebumps to rise up. 

“Shut up.” Bucky snapped without heat as he tugged the cloth to the side, right before he guided Steve’s cock into his mouth. 

He never got tired of this moment, where Steve was finally at a loss for words as his cock filled Bucky’s mouth in all the best ways. Like this, he could render Steve speechless for as long as he wanted, just sucking, licking, and gagging on his cock like a man on a mission. Steve could only curl his fingers against Bucky’s head as he tried not to jerk his hips too much. 

Not that Bucky minded— he let his metal hand slip around Steve to grab a handful of ass and tug him closer. Steve whimpered above him and slid just a little bit deeper into Bucky’s throat. 

With his other hand, Bucky played with Steve’s balls, lightly tugging and massaging, appreciating the way they grew tighter and tighter. Steve wasn’t going to last too long at this rate.

So Bucky doubled his efforts, getting a good breath before letting Steve fill him to the brim again. He swallowed hard around Steve, encouraging him to let go. Steve gasped out a, “I’m gonna— Bucky, _fuck—_ ” and then he was coming, twitching his hips and pulling Bucky’s head deeper. 

Bucky swallowed as much as he could but he couldn’t help but cough after a few moments, spittle and come bubbling at his lips as he pulled away. Steve laughed breathlessly, reaching down to touch Bucky’s lips with his thumb, cupping his face with the rest of his palm. 

“Sorry.” He murmured, sounding sincerely apologetic for once. 

Bucky just grinned and licked his lips as he took in some deep breaths.

That was when a knock sounded at the door.

Bucky froze.

He knew he looked just as debauched as Steve, with red cheeks, and heaving chest. The only difference was that Steve’s hair was still in place, whereas Bucky’s hair was probably all kinds of unkempt, despite the little bit of gel he’d put in it earlier. Looking at the mirror on the side of one wall, he realized it was worse.

And he was on his knees.

In front of Steve’s softening cock.

With come drying on his face.

“Just a minute!” Steve called out just as the door started to open.

Bucky panicked. 

He shoved himself up to stand, wiping his forearm across his face and leaving a wet smear on his arm. 

Steve was shoving himself unsuccessfully back into the tiny cloth, but luckily, the person behind the door didn’t keep pushing— they just called out, “You’re wanted in the studio, Captain Rogers.”

Then they left the door cracked open. 

Bucky wanted to die. 

With how hard his heart was beating, he wasn’t going to rule it out just yet, either. 

His face was burning and his throat was dry, but he managed to stammer out, “You were never promoted to Captain, you know.” There was only static in his brain filling his ears. 

Steve finally put himself back together with an exhilarated laugh, and a shit-eating grin, saying, “Don’t tell them that.”

He glanced at himself in the mirror and simply nodded at himself— the bastard didn’t have a single smudge of paint or stray hair. Then he turned his attention back to Bucky, still grinning, and leaned forward to plant a wet kiss on his cheek.

“Thanks, doll. You’re a real treat.” The Brooklyn accent drawled out, and Bucky let out a short, slightly hysterical laugh. 

Steve was nearly through the door before Bucky got out, “I hope you fall on your face.”

The asshole just threw a peace sign at him before disappearing to go do his thing. 

Meanwhile, Bucky was debating whether to just curl up in a ball of shame or walk straight into a freezer.

*

The day after the charity photo shoot was supposed to be their day off. 

However, they were probably going to need a day off from their day off, seeing as they were both absolutely destroyed from a very athletic and exhausting sex marathon that had started the moment they’d both woken up.

Really, the moment _Bucky_ had woken up, because Steve was already awake, and had been gently touching him, getting him hard in his sleep. 

Now though, they were simply laying next to each other, soaking in the feeling of relaxation. They had taken breaks all day for food and other necessities, but other than that, they’d been pretty much non-stop. 

Rolling over was effortful, and Bucky knew he was going to be sore later. He watched Steve’s form, looking at him up and down to do a usual check-over, and then he paused at his face. It was slack and at ease, his eyes closed with an arm over his forehead. He looked sated and comfortable.

Bucky’s brain felt sluggish and wired at the same time, and he kept drifting to the same idea over and over again as he watched Steve. He blamed his lack of filter on the fact that he was simply too tired to censor himself, but his curiosity was too strong.

Which was why, breaking the peaceful silence of their bedroom, Bucky asked, “Do you like me?”

Steve barked out a laugh, clearly not expecting Bucky’s topic. Opening his eyes, he rolled to the side so he faced Bucky, and said, “That’s funny. You’re a comedian now?”

Bucky just stared at him.

The expression of mirth on Steve’s face slowly slid off, confusion setting in as he realized Bucky wasn’t joking.

“Wait, are you really asking me that right now?”

Bucky kept his gaze steady, and his tone even as he replied, “Yes.”

Steve’s forehead knitted together to frown. “Of course I like you, Buck. Why would you ever think otherwise?”

There was naked honesty in his voice, and Bucky felt guilty for even bringing up the subject. 

But he needed to know.

“I don’t know, I just thought you liked doing things if they were illegal. Like fucking me back in the day, and nearly getting caught. Breaking the rules and getting off on dangerous situations.”

Steve’s expression turned incredulous. 

“Which is why you always go headfirst into it no matter what?” Now Bucky was feeling unsure.

Steve shook his head and sat up, bidding Bucky to do the same, saying, “C’mere, c’mere.”

Bucky went with it, lifting himself until he was sitting cross-legged in front of Steve. He was very much aware of the fact that they were both still naked, though at least they had dried off a bit.

“Okay, listen to me, Bucky. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but yes, I might not be the most cautious man when it comes to battles— though I’m always balancing the risks, you know that— but why would you ever think I get off on danger in our personal lives? In our _sex life?”_

Bucky looked down and fidgeted with the sheets that had caught in between his legs. He didn’t really want to look at Steve’s earnest eyes as he started listing off some examples. 

“Umm, I don’t know. I only remember some things from before the war, but remember that one time at the docks? You went down on me _in public_ and we almost got caught because you wouldn’t stop.”

Steve crinkled his face for a moment and then smoothed it out as he remembered what Bucky was talking about. 

“Okay, hold on, you mean your birthday? The day you got stuck working at the docks until closing because old man Johnson wouldn’t give you the day off?” He waited a beat for Bucky to nod hesitantly. “I wanted to surprise you, Buck. I’d spent all week working on ignoring my gag reflex just so I could deep throat you for the first time. _That_ was your present and I couldn’t wait to give it to you. Also, no one was supposed to still be there by then, but Jack came back to grab his coat and Peter followed him.” 

Bucky glanced up, mumbling, “You laughed the whole way home.”

Steve smiled and said, “Yeah, because how funny would it have been if they’d seen us? They probably would have asked to join in.”

Bucky started at that. “What?”

“You mean you never guessed they were fairies too?”

“Gay.” Bucky automatically corrected.

Steve nodded in acquiesce, “Yes, gay.” Then, when Bucky didn’t answer, Steve pushed, “That’s a terrible example.”

“Okay, well what about that night during the war? The Colonel was out on a mission and you pulled me into his tent, even though we could have been caught any second.”

Steve propped his elbow against a thigh and let his head drop into his hand as he thought for a moment. The memory came back to him quicker than the first, and the smile he gave was wistful. 

“Yeah, I remember that. That was the first night we’d had to ourselves since I got you out of Azzano. Bucky, I missed you _so_ much. I wanted everything and anything from you, even if all we could do was a stupid handjob in a tent. I wanted to have that with you— wanted whatever we could have.”

Bucky felt his face heat up at the earnest words. 

“Okay, but then what about a couple years ago? We were in the Park, walking and holding hands. The moment you saw the cops, though, you immediately dropped my hand and pretended we weren’t together.”

Steve took a little longer to remember that one. Bucky kept going, “It was before we went on that trip to visit Sam in Louisiana.”

Finally, Steve caught on. “Okay, yeah, I remember that.” He rubbed the back of his neck, looking sheepish. “You’re right, I did stop holding hands. I panicked for a moment because I forgot. We’d been talking and acting so much like from before the war that when I saw the police, I just… forgot. I didn’t want to get you in trouble. And I know their uniforms aren’t the same anymore, but my brain just couldn’t stay in the present moment.”

“That makes sense.” Bucky agreed, feeling mollified; both of them still worked through momentary lapses where they forgot which century they were in. It happened more to Bucky, but it wasn’t uncommon for them to happen to Steve either.

Still, he couldn’t let it go. “But when I reminded you, it seemed like— like you were disappointed that it wasn’t illegal anymore. Like you weren’t getting away with anything anymore.”

Steve actually laughed at that. “No, no. I _was_ disappointed. But it was because I was sorry that we missed the day when gay marriage became legal. God, I still see pictures of the parade sometimes and I get so mad that we weren’t able to be there together. That we couldn’t get married on that day and tell everyone else to fuck off. We could have celebrated together and cheered when it was announced.” 

“You want to get married?” Bucky asked, a smile tugging at him as he focused on that nugget of information. The revelation overrode the mortifying feeling of reading everything wrong. 

Steve reached out both hands to grab Bucky’s. “Of _course_ I want to marry you, Bucky. I love you. I’ve always loved you. I’ve wanted to spend the rest of my life with you since we were eleven.”

Bucky couldn’t help the shy grin that crept on his own face. “You love me?”

Steve squeezed his hands. “I love you. I love you so much. I want to marry you— if that’s what you want.”

“Why haven’t you asked me before?”

Steve scooted a little closer. “I’ve been giving you time to get used to everything. Bucky, we’ve had some pretty crazy things happen in our lives. We deserve to go slow and figure ourselves out. I’ve waited a hundred years for you. I can wait a little more.”

Bucky couldn’t help but lean in to kiss him, feeling overjoyed. He let go of his grip on Steve’s hands in order to wrap his arms around Steve’s neck, who huffed out a laugh and went with it, pulling Bucky practically into his lap.

Bucky simply rearranged himself until they were both comfortable, intertwined. 

“Say it again.”

Steve’s chuckle was fond but he promptly responded, “I love you. I love you, Bucky.” 

Bucky grinned and snuggled his head under Steve’s chin. They were quiet for a moment before Bucky found himself needing to check again. 

“So what about last night?”

Steve hummed. “What _about_ last night?”

“In the dressing room. When someone almost caught us?”

Steve groaned good-naturedly and snuck a hand between them so he could run his fingers through Bucky’s hair.

“You punk. You cut this,” He tugged at the short strands of Bucky’s hair, “yesterday morning. And you look so goddamn good. I was horny all day— ever since you came back from the barbers. I wanted to jump you every time I saw you, but I had to get ready for the charity shoot instead. Of course I took the opportunity the moment I got it to have you. And then today, obviously...” 

Bucky couldn’t help giggling, rubbing his head against Steve’s neck so he could feel the short hair. 

“So you really _do_ like me?” Bucky asked, knowing he was being a pain at this point, but not much caring. 

Steve squeezed his arms around Bucky, “Yeah, you’re alright, I guess.”

“Jerk.”

“Hey, I just confessed my undying love for you. What more do you want?” Steve dropped a kiss onto the top of Bucky’s head.

Bucky closed his eyes, content. “Say it again.”

“I love you.”

Bucky hummed. “Again.”

“ _I_ love you.”

“One more time.”

“I love _you_.”

“Again.”

Steve cuddled Bucky in closer.

“I _love_ you.”

Bucky let himself be wholly enveloped in Steve’s arms; he didn’t think he’d ever get tired of Steve saying he loved him. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> Extra bonus points for anyone that understands the title reference. :D


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